


Collecting Pictures From the Flood That Wrecked Our Home

by hannahhoppers



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: 6x01, Emma's Visions come to pass, F/M, Ficlet, Miscarriage, Pregnancy, She doesn't die though, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-02
Updated: 2016-10-02
Packaged: 2018-08-19 02:46:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8186377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hannahhoppers/pseuds/hannahhoppers
Summary: Emma's visions come to pass. She doesn't die, but she suffers a great loss.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry I've been missing again, lovelies. I'm almost done with this massive piece with angst and domestic fluff and all sorts of things (it's at 20,000 words now and I think it'll be done in another 3,000), so that'll be up soon, but I got a plot bunny after last week's episode and just couldn't let it go.
> 
> Please, I cannot stress this enough, if you worry that you might be triggered by this in any way, don't read it. Mental and emotional stability and health are more important than any fic.
> 
> Title from "Youth" by Daughter (a little indie for my taste but it's a quality song)

 

 

            What the hell was wrong with her?

 

            She was standing in the middle of main street, over her father, who had a bullet buried in his leg, and her son, who had been tackled to the ground to prevent said bullet from piercing his heart. If it weren’t for David, Henry would be dead, and she hadn’t done anything to stop it. While a steampunk storybook character drew a gun on her child, she was stuck, a vision of her own death attacking her. This needed to stop.

 

“Swan!”Snapped out of her reverie, her arms were encased by his hook and hand. “Emma, this is getting out of hand. Talk to me.”

 

“You’re right, you’re right. Just… meet me back at the house, okay? I have to make sure they’re alright.”

 

“As you wish.” He smoothed a hand over her hair and squeezed her shoulder before starting the short walk back home. She knelt beside her father and waved a hand over his wound, setting off a shimmer of light and erasing the damage. 

 

“Thanks,” he grunted. She stood and offered him a hand, he took it and then helped his grandson up from the asphalt. 

 

“Mom!” Henry buried himself against her. His arms squeezed tight around her middle, and hers wrapped around his shoulders. 

 

“I’m sorry, kid. I’m really sorry. I screwed up.”

 

“What happened?”

 

“Some… things have been going on. I’m going to fix it. This isn’t ever going to happen again.”

 

“Okay.” He let go but still held onto her arms as she pulled away. “I love you.”

 

“I love you too, kid.” She ruffled his hair and guided him over to David before turning to go back to the blue house by the sea. 

 

            When she unlocked the door and walked inside, she found Killian sitting on the couch, absentmindedly twisting his hook in and out of the brace. Every so often, he ran a hand through his hair. It was disheveled; she could tell he’d been doing that for quite some time. He didn’t turn at the sound of her footsteps, looking wrapped up in his own thoughts, so she cleared her throat. With a start, he spun towards her. She walked around and sank next to him on the sofa. They simply looked at each other for a few long moments before he collected her hand with a sigh and spoke.

 

“What’s going on, love?”

 

“Remember the other day, when we found that blimp thing crashed in the woods?”

 

“What of it?”

 

“I don’t know… I picked up a piece of the wreckage and this sort of vision popped into my head. It felt like a flashback or something. I figured it was because of all the land of untold stories stuff so I went to talk to Hyde, and he sent me to go find this red bird. That’s what I went after, that night in the woods.” She took a gulp of air before continuing. “I found this oracle, and she told me that these visions, or whatever, are snapshots of the future, and she showed me the rest of it with this enchanted… staff, or something, and at the end of it, I died. I didn’t want to tell you because I knew it would worry you, and I didn’t want to deal with that, not after the underworld and everything. I thought I could fix it on my own, but then today happened, and I realized that things aren’t right.” A few tears trickled from her eyes with the end statement.

 

“I’m never going to not worry about you, lass. Never. That’s what love is. Let me help you fix this, though, alright? I promise you, you are going to live. Zeus didn’t send me back just to lose you, I refuse to believe it.” She nodded. His hand came up to wipe the tears from her face and she cuddled against him. “Besides, who’s to say this oracle is even to be believed?”

 

“I hope you’re right.”

 

“Everything will be fine, love. I promise.”

 

            Weeks passed without much further drama. They found that the untold stories characters were actually relatively peaceful, aside from the occasional outlier (who were promptly detained). The pair resumed what had been interrupted by the dirigible, much to both of their delights. 

 

            She contracted some sort of bug a few months after the incident. He made her stay home for a few days to recover, her father backing him up. Once she realized the pair weren’t letting her into the station until she was back to full health, she acquiesced and let Killian play nursemaid. 

 

            They found out (after she explained what a home pregnancy test was) that it wasn’t a bug.

 

            One day, after Dr. Whale had informed her she was at 10 weeks, a strange feeling settled over her. Today was the day her visions would come to pass. It didn’t matter how strongly they hoped, or how many stars they wished on, the oracle was right. The future had arrived at her doorstep, dressed in a grey coat and carrying baggage that it planned to leave behind for her family to deal with. 

 

            She knew Killian would try to stop it, try to go after her and stop the demon from attacking her, probably get himself killed (again) in the process. If not him, her father. Or her mother. Or her son. She couldn’t let that happen. Even if she was to die, she couldn’t let the same fate befall them. They’d move on, she was sure. So she sat down at the desk in the living room and carefully wrote letters to each of them, her non-writing hand settled protectively over the belly containing her unborn child. 

 

            The notes contained words of hope and love. To her mother, she thanked her for her constant love and optimism. She told her father how she admired her courage and was grateful for his never-wavering support, her son that she was proud of who he’d become in the years she’d known him and hoped for him to keep growing into the incredible man she knew he would be. She particularly agonized over her letter to Killian, not having quite the words to describe how she felt about him and wished it didn’t have to be this way, how she was sorry that she had to go so soon after getting him back, how terrible she felt that he’d lose his child when he lost her. After the ink had dried on each pain-filled page, she sealed each letter into its own envelope and labelled each with the name of its recipient. A purple ribbon tied all four notes into a bundle, a wave of her hand enchanted them to appear on the counter in the loft once she was gone. Until then, she tucked them into the top of her shirt, pressed against her heart so she might infuse them with even more love.

 

            She lived the day with as much normalcy as she could, but soaked in the details of every moment. She invited her parents to dinner, made arrangements with Regina for Henry to stay the night. When everybody was inside, laughing merrily in the kitchen, she slipped away to use the restroom, and cast a spell over the house so that they couldn’t leave. With a wave of her hand, she was on main street again, facing a robed figure wielding a sword. It tossed another blade at her feet. 

 

“Pick it up,” the shadowy voice commanded. By instinct, she did as instructed and began to fight. 

 

            The battle seemed to drag on for hours, metal clanging loudly, sweat dripping down her forehead and muscles growing weary. Her family ran up to the corner and _how did they get here?_ But that wasn’t what was important at the moment. Her weapon fell to the ground and vanished in a puff of red smoke, and she stole a glance at the people gathered there, wanting nothing more than to save her. Pure fear covered their faces like war paint. Her son, just a child, really, buried his face in Killian’s shoulder because he couldn’t bear to see another parent die. She looked back to the demon and pulled herself to her feet.

 

“I’m not going to let you hurt them.” The shadowy figure didn’t seem to care. Her hand began to shake. Next thing she knew, cool metal pierced warm flesh, and it felt like she was being burned. Then the sword was yanked out of her abdomen, and the shadowy figure was disappearing, and she was falling towards the asphalt. She caught a shout of “no!” and footsteps pounding over to her. She let her pounding head flop to the side and face her family. Her parents created a protective shield around Henry, hiding her bleeding form from his view. Killian was rushing over to her, scooping her head into his lap and pressing his hands tight against her stomach. 

 

“No, no, Emma, stay with me. Stay with me, love, alright? Keep your eyes open. Your parents are calling for help. Everything’s… everything’s going to be fine. Stay awake for me, understand? You can’t go to sleep.”

 

“I love you,” she said weakly, fighting to keep her eyelids open. Her still-quivering hand reached up for his face.

 

“No, no, don’t you die. You can’t die yet, Swan. Don’t you dare.”

 

“Please.” She coughed. “Say you love me too.”

 

“I love you, I love you so much. I can’t lose you. Help is going to be here soon. You’ve got to fight it, Emma. Fight to live. Please, Swan.”

 

“I’m cold…” she said, and it was true. Her arms and face were turning ghostly pale. 

 

“I know, love. I know, just keep fighting it. Keep talking to me, aye?”

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“No! No, no, no, you can’t talk like that. You can’t talk like you’re going to die. Please, Emma, please don’t do this. You’re a survivor, remember? You’re a survivor, just like me. You have so much ahead of you, love. So much life to live. You can’t die yet.” He pressed his fingers harder against the gaping hole in her stomach, trying to stop some of the blood gushing out of her in steady spurts, in time to the thudding of her heart. “Dave! What’s taking so long?”

 

“You have to let me go.” She was near whispering, now, so weakened that she could barely muster up the effort to speak. 

 

“I’m never going to let you go, Emma. Never. Keep your eyes open, please? Do it for me, or for Henry. Do it for the babe.” The familiar up-down cry of an ambulance approached.

 

“Killian…”

 

“Our child is depending on you, love. You have to keep fighting, not just for you. Please, Emma. Please!” With a tire screech and a huff, the big van pulled to a halt beside them and a few paramedics climbed out. As her love was pulled away and she was loaded into the back of the truck, she finally allowed her eyes to slide shut. 

 

            When she woke again, it was to a head that felt like it was filled with cotton, machines tied up to her arms and hands, and fluorescent lights piercing her eyes like ice picks. After processing what had happened, she slowly turned her head to the side. Henry and Killian were sitting in the chairs beside the bed, dozing lightly against one another. Tentatively, she reached out and ran a finger along the edge of her son’s hand. He stirred and caught sight of her, awake and facing him. 

 

“Mom!” He leapt from the seat and practically threw himself atop her. She winced heavily, and he drew back. “Sorry, sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you, it’s just… I’m glad you’re okay.”

 

“Me too, kid. Me, too.” The dark-haired man in the other chair awoke. At first, he couldn’t seem to believe his eyes; the blue flicked back and forth, between her and her son and the screen beside the bed. She held her hand out to him and he took it, gently, as if he were afraid she’d break. 

 

“Swan.”

 

“Hook.” He scanned over her for a long time, trying to see whether she was okay or looked like she was in pain. 

 

“I’ll give you guys a minute,” Henry said, drawing away from the pair and walking towards the hallway. A faint smile graced her lips.

 

“What happened?”

 

“After the ambulance picked you up, you were brought here.” His voice grew choked. “You’ve been asleep for three days. Whale said it was a miracle that you were still alive.”

 

“And the baby?” His eyes flicked to the floor. He closed them against a few tears which slipped out, regardless. “Oh.” She began to cry, he clutched her hand to himself like a lifeline. 

 

“We can try again, love. When— if— you feel ready.”

 

“I’d like that. I wanted this baby.”

 

“I know, love. So did I.”

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“No, no, never blame yourself for this, lass.”

 

“But if I hadn’t been so reckless-”

 

“This wasn’t your fault. Not in the slightest.”

 

“I wish I could believe that.”

 

“I think you will, in time.” He kissed her knuckles. “Just give it time. It’s alright to grieve.”

 

“I know,” she agreed, squeezing his hand a little bit. “Thanks.”

 

“It’s nothing, love.” She sighed. 

 

“Are we gonna be okay?” A corner of his mouth quirked up in a strange little smile.

 

“I think so, love.”

**Author's Note:**

> So... that was kinda angsty. I'm sorry, I love writing angst and sadness. 
> 
> I don't own the show or the characters, so I'm playing with them. Adam and Eddy have such nice toys. Unbeta'd. Kudos and comments if you enjoy!
> 
> (Oh, and in case anyone was wondering how the whole charming softball team and their pirate mascot made it out of the house- MM called Regina, who came and broke the enchantment.)


End file.
